My First Rule
by OutCold
Summary: Introduction to an OC -"Never be bored? You know that isn't always possible." She raised her eyebrows, "Agent DiNozzo, that is a defeatist attitude."- Joey thinks people should have more fun, and the NCIS team are on her list. Whole team, but Jibbs. xD
1. Kicked Out

_Disclaimer: Meet Joey. I own her._

_A/N: To West Wing watchers - yes, the name is a rip-off, but Ryan (radnessISbadness) mentioned it was a cool name, and I promised I'd name an OC something of his choice._

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The NCIS team was stretched thin. Ziva was helping Abby with her copious amounts of evidence from their new crime scene, Gibbs was receiving Ducky's findings and Tony was interviewing a long list of witnesses, most of whom had seen very little or nothing and just wanted a story to tell their friends. McGee was the only one not doing anything, and this was only because his expansive searches, which had occupied the last three hours, had drawn no results. His head snapped up as the elevator pinged. A girl, probably around twenty, he mused, strode out confidently. She was dressed in leathers and had a motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm, with two coffees and a Caf-Pow! balanced precariously on a tray in the other hand. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue and her hair fell freely in tangled waves to about the small of her back and was a bright, fiery, vibrant red. She saw McGee looking at her and met his gaze evenly. After about five seconds, she grinned.

"Do you know where I could find Jethro Gibbs?"

"Sure, he's in the morgue, but he'll be here soon, so . . ."

She glanced around and then continued to Gibbs' desk, putting the coffees and her helmet on the table and sitting in the chair. Suddenly McGee became nervous. Gibbs wouldn't like that, and he was the only one around to blame.

"Um . . . that's his desk . . ."

"I know," she said, cutting him off. "There are at least ten empty coffee cups in the bin."

Gibbs chose this moment to appear behind her. McGee's eyes flicked up and she caught the movement.

"Give it up, Jethro. He gave you away."

Gibbs walked around in front of her and pulled her into a brief hug as she stood. McGee, as well as Tony and Ziva, who had met and made their way up together, stared in amazement.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Gibbs asked.

She looked offended.

"Can't I just stop by?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, fine," she sighed, looking petulant. "Mum and Dad kicked me out."

"Again?" he asked dryly. "What was it this time?"

He stared her down. They heard Tony say,

"Well, she can't be his daughter . . ."

Gibbs continued to stare at her until she said lowly and very fast,

"My mate Matthew came out and his parents were horrible and made him leave home and I asked Mum and Dad if he could stay with us but it turns out that they're bloody homophobes too and I swear _if_ I smashed Dad's favourite ornament and messed up the wiring of Mum's new car, that's the _only_ reason why."

Gibbs chuckled while the rest of the team looked shocked.

"You apologise?"

"As if. Besides, I think you underestimate how _much_ Dad liked this ornament. And how bad I fucked up that car. Now – are you going to introduce me?"

She smiled widely at the team.

"Well, you know who they are."

"Timothy McGee, Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David. I was just giving you an opportunity to be polite."

"As if," he mimicked. Then he smirked. "Meet Josephine Pierce-Etheridge."

She scowled at him and he smiled back sweetly.

"It's Joey, honestly – Josephine, what the hell kind of name is that?! And since Jethro has been known to keep his personal life in a reinforced steel safe, I am, I was, I _am_ Shannon's niece."

More silence. Then a charming grin.

"Hi, call me Tony."

She reached forward to shake his outstretched hand.

"I'm nineteen, so stop smiling at me like that. I make it a rule not to date anyone over ten years older than me."

He looked embarrassed, but soon moved on to the more important matter of –

"You have rules?"

"It's impossible to grow up with Jethro and not have rules. I, unlike him, write them down," Joey replied, removing a small black notebook from her pocket then putting it back again.

"Abby," McGee said, and they all turned, seeing he was on the phone. "Get up here." He hung up. "She'll want to meet you."

Joey smirked.

"I'm sure she will. Thanks for your help earlier by the way Tim, Timmy, Timothy, McGee . . . what do you prefer?"

"McGee's fine. And it was no problem."

"Which leaves Ziva – can I call you Ziva?"

Ziva shrugged.

"Yes."

"Great to meet you. Can you teach me how to kill people with paperclips? I think that could be useful. You looked surprised – yes, he does talk about you, all of you, rather a lot, actually."

"Joey," Gibbs warned.

"JOEY!"

Everyone turned to see Abby hobbling forward in platform shoes and flinging her arms around Joey who hugged her back.

"Abby!"

"You didn't call to say you'd be in town. Why didn't you call?!"

"Because," interrupted Gibbs, "she thought she'd give me no choice but to offer a bed."

"Or a sofa. Or a floor. I'm not fussy," she said, attempting to look innocent.

He snorted.

"I brought coffee," Joey offered, turning to the desk and picking up the tray and giving a coffee to Gibbs and the Caf-Pow! to Abby. She took the last coffee and sipped it.

"I would have brought the rest of you something, but Jethro never mentions your coffee habits. I think you probably disgust him. Let me guess – milk and sugar?"

They ignored her question, but turned to Abby, silently demanding an explanation.

"What? Don't look at me like that! I bumped into Gibbs and Joey last time she got kicked out. What'd you do this time?"

"What? Why does everyone –?! . . . I destroyed some stuff."

"Ornament and car," supplied Gibbs.

"They're homophobes," mumbled Joey. "Can I stay a while, Jethro?"

"Sure. Now you're nineteen, you might wanna move out."

"Hmm, maybe. I'll ride round, drop of my stuff, do some shopping, you never have any food."

"Oh no you won't! You're coming down to my lab. We have lots to talk about. And you haven't told me I should get a new car yet."

Joey laughed as she was dragged off.

"You misunderstand – you shouldn't get a new car, I like your car. You should just let me fiddle with your car so it stops making those horrible noises. Or you should buy a motorbike. I got a tattoo, by the way."

As they got into the elevator Gibbs heard a faint,

"Really? What?"

He shook his head and laughed quietly.

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_I wrote this AGES ago, and wasn't going to post it till I had a plot (I want it to be a multi-chap), but I got impatient to hear what people thought, so here you go. I will continue this, and please give plot ideas in your reviews! Emily - NO TIVA._


	2. The Dead Poet's Society

**Disclaimer: I only own Joey. But I'd really forgotten how much I love her.**

**A/N: For dancingqueensillystring, I probably wouldn't have UDed this for about another year if it weren't for your review.**

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Joey descended the stairs to Gibbs' basement in the morning, wet hair soaking into her baggy t-shirt as she balanced two mugs full of coffee. "Morning Jethro." He looked up from his sanding, brow furrowing in confusion as he pointed out he already had a coffee. She gingerly took a sip, spitting it back. "Yeah, cold coffee. Nice try." She set down one of the mugs she'd brought and sipped from the other. "Drink. Or you'll get grouchy."

He obeyed, putting down his tool in favour of the caffeine. "You coming in today?"

Her face split open in the grin, finally receiving the invitation she'd been angling at all morning. "Yes yes yes!!! Give me three seconds, two seconds," she downed the rest of her mug, sprinting up the stairs and calling back, "one second!"

Gibbs smiled fondly into his coffee. He'd missed Joey, in a strange way.

-----

She stashed her helmet and leathers behind Jethro's desk, secretively putting her finger to her lips when McGee, Tony and Ziva looked at her questioningly. "If he doesn't see me, he won't say anything," she mock-whispered. They smirked, turning back to the work on their desks, while Joey looked on in disappointment.

Of course, she could always go down to the lab for more activity, but the joy of corruption was then lost. She lounged back in her uncle's chair, drawing out her rulebook and flicking through. And flicking through. And flicking…. "Hey Joey." Perfect.

"Yeah?"

He smiled gleefully, turning away his computer monitor. "Mind if I take a look at those rules?"

Shrugging, she threw it across the bullpen, to land neatly in his lap. "Go ahead, DiNozzo, knock yourself out."

Tony was somewhat in awe of having a copy of rules in his hands. Sure, not Gibbs' rules, but he'd never come across a written set of any, other than official NCIS guidelines – and who cared about them? "Number one," he read aloud. "Never be bored? You know, that isn't always possible."

She raised her eyebrows, sitting straight again in the chair. "Agent DiNozzo, that is a defeatist attitude."

His curiosity sparked, his eyes became alert and attentive. She slowly paced over to him and minimised the windows on his computer. Ziva and McGee were watching now too. She pulled open Tony's top drawer, ignoring his yelp of protest, and felt triumph rise in her as she found a copy of the Dead Poet's Society. She slipped it into the disk drive and linked the computer up to the screen, and soon the titles were blaring across the bullpen. The attention of a few turned to the attention of many. "Joey," was all Tony said, shellshocked.

She laughed. "I love this film, too. Good choice."

-----

Gibbs opened the door of Jenny's office. As they heard music, they looked at one another and sped up the pace of their walking to the balcony. Many of the NCIS agents sat as normal, typing at their computers, but the remainder had pulled office chairs around a screen in the major case team's bullpen. Front and centre, a head of bright red hair let Gibbs know exactly what had happened. Jenny was still staring in horror, so he quelled his smirk and slipped down the stairway, pulling out the plug to the screen and the speakers so silence fell. Agents mumbled excuses, clamouring to get back to their desks before they were reprimanded by the Director, or worse, Gibbs. McGee flushed, Tony smiled guiltily while Ziva, who was behind her desk, made a good show of having been "working" the entire time. He moved as though to headslap Tony, at the last minute bringing up his other hand to whack Joey instead. "Stop corrupting my team. Go to Abby."

She pouted briefly at him, before rushing to the stairs. Gibbs sat down, noticing the pile of leather clothes and the motorbike helmet tucked under his desk. As predicted, he didn't say a word.

-----

A few hours later, the music in the lab was actually at an acceptable level, as the two women – Abby spinning on her chair and Joey sprawled across the futon – chatted to one another. It was a miracle either knew what the other was saying as they spoke at high speeds at the same time, but they seemed to be managing. McGee, who had come down to make use of a computer away from Tony, laughed to himself, safe in the knowledge he wouldn't be heard over the bass. Eventually, Abby flitted out of the lab. Joey stood and purposefully turned down the music. She turned to McGee. "Hey, I'm planning on going out tonight. You wanna come?"

"Going… out?" he questioned, unsure what she meant.

"A club, probably," she shrugged.

He was wary. "It's a Thursday, Joey, I don't know if…"

Rolling her eyes, she realised that what she saw as her sworn duty to make people lead more exciting lives was going to be a little harder here. "McGee, I'm nineteen years old, I have no idea what I want to do with my life other than it involves never getting up and dreading the day in front of me, and I am asking _you _to join me for one night in letting your hair down and just having fun. Whaddaya say? Because I could always ask Tony and you could stay in, try to get over your writer's block, and end up acting a fairy in an online game."

He bit his lip. One night. It couldn't hurt.

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**Silly McGee. I wouldn't go clubbing with Joey. She's just too psychopathic. Even for me.**


	3. Dante's Inferno

**Disclaimer: I own and love Joey. But yeah, that is all. That and I co-created the "I'm trying to write but" list. :P With dizzy-in-the-izzy. **

**A/N: Joey sets about corrupting McGee. And y'know, nearly succeeds. Well, sort of.**

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**Joey took a final look at herself in the mirror. She smiled. The dress was in black leather, came to just above her knee with a studded collar and a zip slanting across the front. She loved it. It was always possible, of course, that she wouldn't have loved it so fiercely if her mother hadn't hated it so much. With black, heeled ankle boots and her red hair tangled and wild down her shoulders, she thought she looked good.

She strode down the stairs, passing the door to the basement where Jethro was lurking without dropping in. When she was staying with him, Joey had never bothered to explain all her comings and goings. It was one of the reasons she loved it so much.

There was a bite to the air outside, but Joey had chosen not to wear a jacket or jumper, knowing it would be far warmer in the club, and not wanting to bother to check a coat in. Folding her arms against herself for warmth, she waited. As expected, McGee arrived promptly at the agreed meeting time of ten, driving the Porsche timidly as if he were afraid his boss would recognise the sound of the engine and give McGee hell for going clubbing with his niece. It was, Joey laughed, distinctly possible.

She pulled open the door and slid in, grinning. "Hey there. You ready?"

The perfect gentleman, McGee confirmed he was ready and added, "You look great."

"Thanks, you're not too shabby yourself."

He had been out with Abby a few times though, and knew what was coming. "But…?"

With a sympathetic look, she said, "Lose the tie."

After obeying, he looked at her questioningly.

"And the jacket, but only for a second, the jacket's good."

Confused, he shrugged off his leather jacket – the replacement for the one Abby had cut a hole out of. Joey reached over and rolled up his shirt sleeves, and popped open two buttons.

"Jacket back on."

She smiled. "You now not only look good, you look the part."

"Where to?"

Joey gave him directions to a club Abby had shown her, a place named, somewhat unoriginally, Dante's. Joey gave the bouncer some cash and he nodded her through, but stopped McGee, who looked worried at this development.

"He with you, Josie?"

"How many times? It's _Joey._"

"My best mate's name's Joey, and he's a six foot two body builder."

"Good for him. It's still Joey."

"Look, are you vouching for the guy or not?"

"Of course I'm vouching for him, otherwise I wouldn't bring him here, would I?"

Somewhat reluctantly, the bouncer let McGee pass.

"Well done, you are now part of the most non-exclusive club you'll ever join," Joey told him.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, Dante, the guy who owns this place – not very many people know this, his name's actually John Wright, but anyway – he decided to get into the club you'd have to be vouched for by someone who was already allowed in. Of course, with people vouching for three hundred of their friends, practically all of D.C.'s allowed in," she explained.

"Who vouched for you?"

At this, she laughed aloud. "Take a look around you, McGee. Abby, who else?"

When she said it like that, it seemed obvious.

"I'm going to get a drink, you want anything?"

"You're only nineteen," he reminded her.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, made far easier by her heels, and stared into his eyes. "Timothy, grow up."

Without another word, she went over to the bar, and was served with no difficulty in the slightest. She flirted effortlessly with the bartender and a guy sitting in a nearby barstool, and McGee watched with growing panic. If anything happened to Joey, Gibbs would _kill _him.

Joey, for her part, was watching McGee stressing out of the corner of her eye. She felt for the guy, but he really needed to learn to chill out. Ira, the guy at the bar, wasn't really her type. For a start, he was wearing make-up. It was all very well for the Goth scene, which she supposed she was in, but Joey was a biker at heart – tattoos were good, leather was good (but not tight leather), and make-up was just… well… _not good. _However, he was relaxed, and friendly, which was enough for the time being. She wasn't looking for a life partner… she wasn't even looking for a guy to hang out with for the night, she already had that in McGee. No, she was looking for someone who would freak out McGee just the right amount. Finishing her drink, she offered a hand to Ira.

"Feel like a dance?"

He shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

It was still reasonably early in the night, but the floor was crowded and she dragged Ira right into the middle of the people, throwing her arms around his neck to stop herself from being pushed over. She couldn't resist a look back at McGee to check he still had her back.

McGee watched her hitting on the blond guy with the heavy make-up, and panicked further. What if he lost track of her? What if she went home with him or something like that? He caught her eye when she looked round, but she just raised her eyebrows and turned back to the guy she was dancing with.

"I cannot believe I let this happen," he murmured to himself, and stepped into the sea of people.

The next Joey saw of him was when he tapped her on the shoulder. Laughing, she unwound herself from Ira and attached herself to McGee. Her previous partner didn't seem concerned, just turning into the crowd to find someone else.

"I knew you'd be here eventually," Joey said.

"I should have never agreed to this," he told her.

"Lighten up, Tim. Dance."

To her surprise, once he'd gotten over his wooden-ness McGee was a good dancer. They were up on the floor for a good half hour, and hot and sweaty by the end of it, so much so that at the bar Joey had a half a mind to order water. She didn't, but McGee did, protesting that he was driving. She laughed at how sensible he was, but it was nice. It made her feel safe.

"Does Gibbs know about all this?" he asked her, watching as she ordered her third drink.

She rolled her eyes. He would ruin a perfectly pleasant conversation.

"He's Jethro," she shrugged, thinking fondly of her omniscient-seeming uncle. "I can only presume so."

"And he doesn't mind?"

"I've never asked him." At his raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "Jethro's not my dad, if he was, I wouldn't enjoy hanging out with him so much. Don't spoil the night, McGee, I'm having fun. Dance with me again?"

He smiled, albeit doubtfully, and stood. Just at that moment, his cell rang.

"McGee."

"McGee, it's Gibbs, get your ass in we have three bodies."

"Will do, boss," he answered, voice steady even though he was visibly panicking.

"Case?" Joey asked when he flipped the phone shut.

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

Shocked at the relaxed Joey becoming so businesslike and efficient, he followed her path through the club, as she seemed to know how best to navigate it.

"Joey!" yelled a man over the music, and she spared a second to smile at him.

"Dante! Great to see you, but I'm sorry, we really have to run."

Shrugging, the club owner walked with them out the door, which helped them greatly with speed.

Once back in the car, Joey took control again. She grabbed McGee's tie from the backseat and fastened it around his neck, doing up the buttons.

"Jacket off."

He obeyed, and helped her roll down his sleeves and button the cuffs. She surveyed him critically.

"Gibbs is going to kill me, isn't he?"

"Maybe so, maybe not, drive to the nearest Starbucks."

"I need to get to NCIS!"

Taking a deep breath, she said slowly, "Trust me."

Why the hell he would follow the advice of someone who thought it was a good idea to go clubbing on a weekday or watch a film in the middle of work, he had no idea. And yet he did, driving them to a Starbucks on the next block.

She got out, and he followed for the hell of it.

"Whatever your strongest coffee is, and throw in an espresso shot?" she asked the student serving at the counter, who promptly followed the instructions.

Joey shoved the drink into McGee's hands and paid. And then, still drinking his coffee, she shoved McGee into the men's bathroom and told him to 'wash his face and sort his hair'.

On looking in a mirror, he was kind of a mess, and did the best he could to sort it out. Joey was waiting in the car, tapping her foot impatiently, and wearing his jacket for warmth.

"Do you want me to drop you at Gibbs' house?" he asked, a lot more relaxed now he was vaguely presentable.

"Nah, I'd rather be at NCIS actually, but thanks."

She left him in the bullpen, not really wanting to get into where they'd been with Jethro and probably Tony, who would no doubt be teasing McGee all day. In fact, she'd purposefully not had any coffee herself, and headed straight down to the morgue, where Ducky and Palmer were preparing to leave.

"Ahh, you must be Josephine."

"Joey, actually, Doctor," she said.

"Please, call me Ducky."

"If you'll call me Joey."

Palmer smiled at her. "He does it to everyone," he said, and at Ducky's look quickly added, "I'll see you at the truck, Doctor."

"Listen, Ducky, I know Jethro sleeps on autopsy tables sometimes…" she smiled. "And I'm really knackered."

"Well, I have a few patients who'll be back here in a few hours, but before then I see no reason why you shouldn't, Josephine."

Hoisting herself up on a table, she grinned. "Thank you, _Donald._"

He chuckled but didn't comment. As she lay back, he quietly said, "I think, my dear, that all of your acting up may just be a rebellion against your parents."

Joey smirked. Jethro had obviously been telling him stories.

Folding her hands behind her head and closing her eyes, she replied, "I never denied it, Donald."

* * *

**So yeah, a little darker at the end there, cause the girl certainly has _issues, _but I'm not going to dwell on them too long. Or at least, I don't plan to. Here's the plan.**

**1. Joey takes on the task of making Ziva have more fun.  
2. Joey meets Jenny, who I've decided (from Tiva4evaxxx's first review), is still alive.  
3. Joey decides she's stepping up to the grown up's game and begins a plan to 'corrupt' the director of NCIS, and her uncle. Jibbs! Which I shall now edit the summary to include.**


End file.
